


Hide and Seek

by ClareGuilty



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Creampie, Daddy Kink, Light Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21565987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClareGuilty/pseuds/ClareGuilty
Summary: I love Big Daddy van der Linde <3
Relationships: Dutch van der Linde/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 70





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> I love Big Daddy van der Linde <3

Dutch’s plan had worked perfectly.

All you had to do was trust in him and everything would turn out fine.

You had played your part to the letter, just enough liquor in your blood to make your eyes bright and your cheeks pink, leaning on a stranger’s arm and fluttering your lashes as you picked their pockets. A wallet here, a coin purse there, slipping a watch off a wrist or a ring from a finger.

Dutch’s eyes were dark as he watched you. It had been his idea, let you pick the pockets of the wealthy folk while he and Arthur negotiated with their contact. That didn’t mean that he enjoyed watching you fling yourself at any stranger who eyed you too long. Shirt unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, you were certainly a sight as you paraded around the dimly lit soiree.

The women were more unabashed then the men, looking you over with a sort of shameless want. They were unfulfilled by their husbands, and you looked like a quick fix that could keep quiet with a kind enough donation.

It was the men who excited you the most -- who made Dutch’s blood boil. They watched you and warred with themselves. You wondered if you were the first boy that had made them feel such a way. If they had looked on another man before you and felt their stomach turn with desire.

You were more shameless as the night carried on, making eye contact with Dutch as your lips scraped the stubble of another man’s jaw, his billfold already in your fingers.

It was Dutch who called things off. Clapping Arthur on the back, he bellowed loudly and began making excuses for his departure. You disappeared yourself from the crowd, ducking into an empty hallway and buttoning your shirt and righting your sleeves. A quick run of your fingers through your hair and you were a different man. No one even glanced at you as you soberly made your way to the doors.

Arthur and Dutch were waiting in the coach, Hosea checking the horses one last time as you climbed inside.

Arthur didn’t look at you as you sat next to Dutch. His eyes were fixed just past the glass of the window the whole ride home. You didn’t blame him.

Dutch was holding back, whether for Arthur’s sake or yours you couldn’t tell. A large warm hand, steady on your hip. Careful, slow breaths as Dutch drove himself further and further in his own head. Hosea reared the horses in, and Arthur was gone before your could blink. 

The gang was all too happy to celebrate a successful night. You presented your winnings to Dutch in full view of everyone. His eyes widened, and Mary-Beth let out a low whistle as the jewelry and cash spilled across the table. Hundreds of dollars in gold, gleaming in the firelight.

Spirits only heightened when Arthur presented the bonds he had stolen, and drinks began to flow. Dutch carefully looked through everything you had stolen, picking out a ring and a pocketwatch for himself before locking everything else away for safekeeping.

Whirling lights and ripples of laughter faded and disappeared in the distance as Dutch whisked you away from the party. His hands were large and warm, pulling you, caging you, gripping you tightly as the two of you flew up the stairs and into his room.

“You did so good for me, boy,” he growled, already pulling at your clothes. “You made me so proud.” You helped him with the buttons of your shirt so he didn’t rip them off in his haste. He let you take over and dove for your belt, pulling your pants open with enough force to drag you forwards a few inches. The smallest whine escaped you.

“I know,” Dutch cooed, calming you as he would a startled animal. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” He pulled you in close, large hand rubbing over your back in long, slow strokes. His lips scraped over your jaw, mustache scraping against your skin in a familiar and delightful way.

You grabbed at Dutch. Fingers scrabbling at his vest as you tried to cling to him. He chuckled at your neediness, pressing you flush against him and lifting you to walk across the room. The sway of his long stride was a comfort as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. You breathed in the smell of sweat and gun oil and cigar smoke. Dutch would take care of you.

He set you on the bed gently, with reverence. You reluctantly let him pull away so he could remove his vest and unbutton his shirt. He grinned down at you, drinking in your adoration as you watched him. One of your hands had slipped down to palm at the bulge that was straining at your underpants.

“That’s my boy.” Dutch draped his shirt and vest over the back of a chair. “Let me see you now.”

You eagerly pushed your pants and underwear down, shoving them to the floor with your boots. Your shirt had already fallen down to your elbows, and you were sure you looked every bit as debauched as you felt. Dutch’s gaze only grew hungrier. His dark eyes burned as he descended upon you. His lips closed over the pulse in your throat, teeth nipping gently before he set to work sucking a dark mark into the sensitive skin. You cried out and pulled at his hair, hips bucking upwards as he swirled his tongue around the blooming bruise. 

Dutch’s large hand closed around your cock. It was rough and hot and everything you needed. You muffled your shout of pleasure against his skin, nearly kicking out as Dutch’s fingers squeezed gently. 

He chuckled and pumped his hand. Your reactions delighted him, how sensitive you were, how easily you fell apart under his touch. You were his boy. He knew just how to make you feel good.

“What do you want, sweet boy?” Dutch asked. His lips brushed over your hairline. You stuttered and gasped as you tried to find your words.

“Fuck me, Daddy,” you breathed. “Fill me, _please_. I need it.” 

As if Dutch could have looked any more smug. “Of course,” he brushed the thumb of his free hand over your lips, across your cheekbone. “Can you get Daddy ready? I wanna feel that sweet little mouth of yours.”

You nodded. Dutch gave one final stroke over your cock before releasing it, moving up on the bed so you could reach his belt. He waited patiently as you fumbled with the buckle of his belt and worked open the buttons of his pants. His cock was already straining against his underwear, thick and leaking precome. You could help but mouth at him through the fabric, pressing your tongue against the shaft and leaving dark wet spots as you moaned over the warmth.

Dutch groaned and placed a heavy hand on the back of your head. It was a comfort, the feeling of his fingers against your scalp. You peered upward to see his head thrown back. You were doing a good job. Tugging the waistband of his underwear down, you pulled his cock out and wrapped your lips around the thick shaft. Dutch turned his attention to you, meeting your eyes and grinning widely.

“You’re such an eager little whore,” he panted. “So desperate for Daddy’s cock.” You moaned around him, partially in agreement and partially in humiliation. You belonged to Dutch. Everything you were, you owed to him. He had built you into someone strong, and you would spend the rest of your life paying him back.

His hand urged you forward, forcing your lips to stretch wider as you took Dutch farther into your mouth. Your eyes watered, but you never looked away. Dutch liked too see you ruined like this, covered in spit and precome with tears streaming down your face. Your cock twitched uselessly, desperate for any kind of friction. You didn’t dare touch it.

Slowly but surely, you took all of Dutch in your mouth, a feat that had not been easy to master. Dutch had fucked your throat brutally many times before, training you to be able to take him. It was worth it just to see how pleased he looked, to feel his hand running through your hair as you swallowed around him.

“You really are a perfect boy,” he crooned. His hips rocked forward and you gripped the thick material of his pants as he began to use your mouth. Tears began to spill over your ruddy cheeks, spit already running down your chin. “I can’t wait to be inside you. I’m gonna fill you up- fuck you good.”

Your cock was leaking pathetically. You wondered if you could come just from Dutch’s words. He would take pride in that. He liked knowing that he owned you completely.

The rhythm of Dutch’s hips stuttered and then slowed. He pulled you off his cock, tilting your face this way and that to see how much of a mess he had made of you. You were panting and flushed, lips red and shiny with spit. Even still, you gazed at Dutch with nothing but lust and adoration.

“I love you like this.” He pulled you into his arms, cradling you close for a moment before laying you down. There was a muted thud as Dutch’s pants hit the floor, and then his arms were around you again. You were on your side, with his chest flush against your back. He nudged his knee between your thighs and pushed them apart. Your stomach flipped in anticipation.

Your fingers scrabbled against Dutch’s skin, desperate for anything he would give you. Even if he didn’t let you come, you just needed to feel him. You needed to make him proud.

Dutch’s fingers teased at your entrance, pressing in slowly before pulling out. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t his cock.

“Please,” you whined. “Daddy, please.”

“I’ve got you boy. I’ll give you just what you need.”

Dutch’s cock, still slick with your spit, pressed into you. The stretch made your eyes flutter shut, head lolling back against his chest. He must have noticed your reaction, because his chest rumbled and he scraped his teeth over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

There was no need to be considerate -- not when you were this desperate. Dutch slammed forward until he filled you completely. You let out a choked sob of pleasure. It was like sparks, the crackling of fire, the sharp burn of moonshine. Dutch thrust into you again. Your cock was pathetic, leaking constantly and twitching every time Dutch pressed into you.

“You’re so tight. Such a good boy for Daddy. I’m going to ruin you. No other man will make you feel as good as I do.”

“I don’t- I don’t want anyone else,” you whimpered. “Only you, Daddy. Only you.”

Dutch growled. He lifted you slightly and rolled so that he was on top of you. His weight wasn’t suffocating; if anything, it made you feel safe. He pushed your legs apart and fucked into you deeper than before. You buried your face in the bedding and screamed as he relentlessly pounded into you.

Your cock was trapped beneath you, aching and desperate for Dutch’s touch. Hopefully he would let you come. You had made him proud; you were a good boy.

Pinned beneath Dutch, you could do nothing but take his cock as he pressed into you again and again. He was so big, so strong. You loved feeling him on top of you, inside of you. He had a way of making everything disappear except for his voice in your ear and his skin against yours.

“I’m close,” he said. You moaned and tried to spread your legs wider, take him deeper. He changed the angle of his thrusts and suddenly every slide of his cock was nearly blinding you in pleasure. 

“Yes, Daddy, right there please more I need it-” you whined. If he wanted to, he could let you come like this. Dutch gave a satisfied groan. You were helpless beneath him. 

“Pleasepleaseplease…” You were desperate, teetering on a painful edge.

“I’m gonna come, dear. I’m so close. Take it all like a good boy for me. I’m gonna fill you up.” Dutch’s pace quickened, then became frantic, halting as he buried himself deep inside you, twitching as he filled you.

You were on the verge of tears. Your cock ached so painfully, trapped beneath you and leaking a steady stream even though you hadn’t come. Dutch pulled out so that the head of his cock was still inside you, stroking himself a few times before pulling out. Cool air rushed over your skin, raising goosebumps and causing you to shiver.

“I know, sweet boy,” Dutch crooned. He rolled you over so that you were on you back, spreading your thighs so he could settle in between them once more. He watched you, watched his seed spill from you and your cock twitch and your lip tremble as you tried to gather the courage to ask him to touch you.

His hand closed around your cock. Your hips jerked and you cried out. It was too much, but you also wanted to come more than anything.

Dutch moved slowly, pumping your shaft with deliberate intent. You moaned, eyes darting between his hand on your cock and his hungry expression. The fire in his eyes burned wilder as he increased the pace. Oh god. You could feel your orgasm hurtling towards you like a train, but pleasure had never hurt like this.

“Please,” you sobbed, “I need it.”

“Who do you belong to?” Dutch demanded. He was holding your orgasm for ransom.

“You, Daddy. Only you. I’m yours. Please.”

“Good boy.” He smiled and increased his pace, stroking you faster and faster until your back arched off the bed and you were spilling pathetically over his fingers.

Then he kept going. His hand didn’t slow, forcing you to past the blinding white light of orgasm and into something darker. Your eyes couldn’t stay open, you couldn’t even think. It was just too much, pain and burning unlike anything you had felt before, soothed by Dutch’s low words and the feeling of his lips on your neck.

You could barely even focus, hardly noticed what was going on.

“Clean them,” Dutch said, shoving his fingers past your lips. You sucked them obediently, tasting your own climax on his skin. He said other things, things that sounded sweet. You wish you could have heard them, you liked when Dutch was sweet.

Your eyes continued to flutter in the low light. Dutch seemed uncaring of your exhaustion, moving you to the other side of the bed and draping a blanket over you so he could lay down himself. The lamplight dimmed and his breathing slowly evened out into rumbling snores.

Your muscles slowly began to work properly, shaky and unstable at first, before giving way to an achy soreness that seemed to weigh down your entire body. You slipped from the bed, gathering your clothes and dressing yourself as best you could; hopefully, you would be able to slip by everyone on your way back to your bunk.

The dilapidated walls of the house only looked worse as you crept over the rotting floorboards. Oily smudges stained the walls and floors. Dust settled over every surface. The moonlight seemed to highlight every unfavorable aspect of the ruins that Dutch had claimed as his castle.

You shook your head clear of those thoughts and pushed out into the night air. The fire was burning low; Javier dozed softy in the dying light. No one else seemed to be around, though you were sure Bill or John was out on watch.

There was a basin of clean-ish water sitting out by the wash, and you did your best to clean yourself up. Bruises were already blooming across your skin in the shape of Dutch’s hands. You gently pressed into one; it didn’t hurt that much. You couldn’t see your neck, but you knew that he had marked the skin over your jaw and down to your collarbone. You probably couldn’t hide the marks. It was what he wanted.

It was no question that Dutch owned you. Even if no one said anything, if they looked away when his hand slipped around your waist, they all knew it was true. 

Would you wear his marks with pride?

You sighed.

You needed him. Dutch was everything you had. Even if the others watched you with pity or scorn or envy, Dutch would protect you. It was that thought that you carried with you as you climbed into your bedroll, your prayer that you whispered to yourself as you waited for sleep to take you.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr and Twitter as well!
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated <3 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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